


Silly Little Things

by SuperWoman0124



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Dean, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Rimming, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWoman0124/pseuds/SuperWoman0124
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam get hot and heavy. Porny one shot. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silly Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> -MMkay, so this was supposed to be like quick and dirty annnd it ended up being over 2.5K words. #sorrynotsorry.

"Oh, fuck." Dean gasps as Sam strokes his cock, plunging his tongue in with a very talented ease. Sam teases the rim, slick sweat rivuleting from Dean's naked chest, grasping his pec and digging his fingernails in. 

Sam stops for a moment, bright brown eyes peaking between his fingers to look at the shattered remains of his older brother. 

"You like that?" Sam smirks, twisting his long fingers at the head of Dean's cock so smoothly that Dean throws his head back into the pillow. 

"You know I fuckin' do, Sammy." Dean reaches his fingers down and tangles them into Sam's brunette hair, fueling him to push further. 

Sam dives back in, his nose pressed to the base of Dean's balls, inhaling the scent of leather, sweat and _Dean._ Sam stretches his tongue as far as it will allow, poking in and tongue fucking him. The feeling of the wet smooth tongue making Dean feel like he's being electrocuted, tiny sparks lighting up from his toes to his finger tips, arching his back and bucking his hips. 

Sam is building up as much saliva as he can and pushes it in with his tongue, hoping to coat all of Dean's walls with it, marking him, claiming him from the inside out. Sam introduces his finger, gently running the pad across the fluttering rim, Dean's body begging for it physically. Dean began to writhe on the abused mattress, clenching his fingers into the white sheets, gasping for breath. His chest hyperventilated, caving and filling quickly, Dean clenched his right fist back onto his chest, clawing at any flesh he could find. Sam pushed his finger in, lapping his tongue around the rim. Dean moans, gasping, hoarse. Sam's been teasing for hours, Dean's come already once. 

"Fuck, Sam!" Dean bucks his hips, motioning to Sam that the contact on his dick needs to be returned while Sam slides his finger in, just to the first joint. Just enough to make Dean want to push out the intrusion. Sam slides his tongue across Dean's inner thigh, biting lightly, nipping and running his tongue across the abused flesh. Dean lets out a groan, tossing his head to the side. He's so hot, too much, fuck, so good. The sweat begins to bead on his brow, the effort of stopping his hips from thrusting becoming painful, twinge in his joints and his brain begging for touch. 

Sam hears the frustrated groan leave Dean's lips and Sam smirks, knowing just how Dean ticks. It incites a certain empowered emotion inside him, loving the way Dean writhes and twists beneath him. Sam returns his attention to Dean's fluttering hole, ramming his finger in deeper, harder, before pushing up and triggering his prostate. Dean's back arched, flying from the mattress, hands clenching and unclenching. It doesn't matter how many times they do this, how many fingers Sam shoves into him, how many times Sam pokes and prods all sorts of spots that make Dean whine, Sam always loves the look of Dean in pleasure. Eyes blown wide, soft green giving way to the round chiseled black of his eyes. Chest hitching and pleasure ebbing and flowing, so on edge about how good it feels vs. how wrong/right it feels.

Dean reaches for his heaving chest, forming a fist around the amulet his brother gave to him what feels like eons ago. Sam smirks into his work, satisfied that he could make his brother come like this, two fingers twisted inside his brother's hot hole. Dean wants to reach down and palm his shaft. Knows he's not supposed to. Knows what happens to _bad boys._ But it doesn't stop it from aching, pulsing and dribbling pre-come down Sam's hand resting, unmoving at the base. 

"What do you want me to do?" Sam's voice grew more hoarse with each word, shoving his face back to lick around slick digits, enjoying the taste of Dean. 

Dean squirmed under the ministrations, unused to the individual attention. Dean threw his head back with a deep moan, suddenly shy. Knowing Sam would punish him for not answering.

"I asked you a question, slut." Sam circled his tongue around Dean's entrance, squeezing Dean's cock between his fingers. Dean suddenly can't speak, can't breathe, all functions ceasing to exist with the exception of _Sam._ Being Sam's. 

"Sammy, please." _'Don't make me say it.'_ Dean whispers to the back of his mind, raking his claws into the sheets, almost shredding them with frustration. Sam crooked his fingers up, jamming them into his prostate roughly. 

"Please, what, **_whore?"_**

Dean almost came instantaneously. He and.. that word had a love/hate relationship. Sam only called him that when he was _really_ bad.

"P-Please." Dean enunciated every syllable. "F-Fuck me." 

It wasn't what Sam wanted, but Dean's loose hole was gaping, clenching around the vast space of his fingers, and Sam couldn't wait any longer anyway. 

With a quick adjustment, Sam gracefully rose to his knees, not removing his fingers, stretching his back muscles and shoulders out. Dean was suddenly captivated by the width of his little brother's form, marveling in the tanned expanse of flesh he worshiped when Sam let him. Sam rocked his fingers in, setting Dean newly ablaze, and pulled out to the first knuckle, only to slam them back inside again too quickly. 

Sam spreads his sweat slick body over Dean, mere inches from his shaking frame until all Dean could see was Sam's nose and his lust filled eyes. Sam huffed a warm breath, Dean felt it running along the space of his bared neck. Sam reached out his unoccupied hand, fingers curled around Dean's chin to tilt him forward, needing to taste Dean's lips, latching together with a slow, agonizing pace. Dean moaned into the contact, his soft sounds swallowed by the tongue darting into his mouth, the taste of himself fueling him harder.

"You've been a bad boy, Dean." Sam's voice is a few octaves lower than usual, gravel-rough as he rolls his tongue lazily between Dean's panting lips. "You know what happens to bad boys, don't you, Dean?" Sam plays the part so well. Too well. During their conversation earlier, Dean thought that Sam would give up half way through, laugh at something, tease too much. but Sam was _perfect._ Always so perfect. 

"Yes." Dean tried his best to sound endearing, sorry even. He knew he needed this. The stress release of obeying unprompted, being punished for disobedience. He would take anything Sam offered, the grip Sam had on his chin tightening, Sam bent to kiss deeper, rougher, teeth catching, tongues twirling. 

"Tell me. Need to hear you say it." Sam growled, looking down, face framed by his brown hair. 

"T-they get fucked..." Dean paused, tongue darting out quickly to lick at his bottom lip. "Hard." 

"That's right, Dean." Sam sneered, condescending attitude shining through. "And do bad boys get to come?" Sam twisted his fingers in, pushing back as far as he could, thumb pressing into Dean's balls making the older Winchester flinch in pain. 

"No!" Dean grits out, wanting to push Sam away, but instead, renews his grip into the mattress, twisting in his fists. Sam relaxes, removing the pressure from his balls, and licks a long stripe up Dean's neck, making him whine. 

"Good boy. Keep that up and I _may_ let you come." Sam snickers, pulling his fingers out and slamming back in, causing Dean to buck up, his previously flagging cock now back at full attention. 

"Want this cock, baby?" Sam bends to run his lips along the soft skin of Dean's shoulder, whispering lightly, keeping his thrusts gentle, rocking his fat warm cock along Dean's thigh, a wet puddle beginning. The thought turned Sam on. Marking him, claiming him. 

"Yes." Dean's back arched with his reply, scratching his nails into the sheets, stopping himself from hooking them into the expanse of Sam's flesh in front of him. 

"Tell me how much you want me." Sam snickered, posing it almost as a question, voice gravelly and full of power. 

"Want you, Sammy. Want you so bad. Need to feel you inside." Dean's voice sounded harsh, hours of moaning and growling effecting it. If it were up to Sam and his love of Dean's fucked out voice, he would make him beg. "You feel so good, Sam. Want that cock, baby. Wanna feel you come in me. Fill me up 'til I can't take anymore." 

"There's my good boy." Sam smiled, chuckling as he pulled his fingers out. 

"Want you." Dean whispered, sharp and wrecked, over and over, glowing at the praise. Sam lined his cock up and teased at Dean's entrance, the head squeezing into the tight hole making them both shutter and ache. 

"Sammy." Dean gasps before Sam leans down to steal the breath from Dean's lips. When he pulls away, Sam charges in, the way is slick, tight, hot and Sam stops, allowing themselves to breathe in each other's air and basking in the brief moment when they're finally connected. Sam takes a deep breath, forcing himself to take it easy. Not to hurt Dean. That's not what this is about. 

"Sammy." Dean repeats, and Sam feels empowered by Dean's breathless plea for more. Dean's face is relaxed, unaffected by pain, willing his baby brother to fuck deeper. 

Sam pushes his dick in, admiring the shock on Dean's face, jaw unhinged in a soundless scream he wouldn't dare let loose. Sam sits up, watching the last 2 inches of himself sink in to Dean's velvet heat, loving how it looks. Dean's cock lies between them, shiny and full, curling towards his stomach, leaving small pools of clear slick across each rippled groove. 

Sam stills his hips, watching a shutter run from the top of Dean's head down to his arms, fingers, chest, toes. 

"Move, please." Dean's words, hitched as he finally gives in to the urge of reaching up and latching his fingertips into Sam's pliant back. Sam, unflinching, pulls out almost all the way to the tip before thrusting back in erratically. Dean throws his head back in a rough moan, throat ripped and utterly wrecked. 

Sam pumps in at a punishing pace, giving his all at the pace Dean deserves. Sam pulls out and circles his hips, wiggling the tip at his entrance. 

"Gonna be good for me, Dean?" Sam glows, sweat highlighting the deep curves of his shoulders. 

Dean agrees noncommittally, grunting and closing his eyes, shaking his head. Sam places his giant palm over the expanse of Dean's neck, gripping loosely enough that Dean could still breathe, but tight enough that Dean was aware of his intentions. 

Sam plunges in, deep, and rams frantically, sinking his teeth into the skin of Dean's neck beside his palm. 

"Feels good, huh? That nice big cock shoved in that tight hole. Bet you can't wait to come." Sam's piercing hazel eyes bore holes into Dean's pinched green ones, unable to make the words come to the surface. 

Dean parts his lips to gasp and utters an almost silent "Yes." 

Sam pumps his hips, glistening and Dean digs his fingernails in deeper, an easy slide with how much sweat Sam's worked up from hours of manual labor. Dean can feel the skin under his fingernails, biting into tense flesh. 

Dean can't take it anymore. The steady friction of Sam's abs running along his stomach, feeling so full, so stuffed, so good and Dean wants to come. Wants to come more than anything else in the world. 

"C-can I-" Dean pleaded with his brain. If he asked, there was a chance he'd get rejected. But he had to ask. "Can I come?" 

"Not yet." Sam grunted out. "Not until I've filled you. And you will come, my good boy." Sam sneered condescendingly, tightening his grip where it lay on Dean's throat, bared and broken. "But you were bad," Sam pushed himself in until he satisfyingly felt his balls fit snugly against Dean's body. "So you have to come untouched, or not at all." 

Dean whined, clamping his eyes shut tight, the intense pressure building and relapsing, so on the verge of coming and sliding down, absorbing Sam's silky words into his blood. Willing himself to push it back, ignore the body's urge to curl up. He let Sam use him, holding on while he was jostled, Sam fucking in to that tight wet heat unrelenting. 

"So good for me, baby. Just a little longer." Sam stroked an open palm down Dean's pliant cheek, warm and red as he exhaled, returning his focus on the enjoyment of his baby brother inside of him. Sam lowered his other hand, fumbling with Dean's knee to bring it up over his shoulder, pinning Dean's cock in a very uncomfortable position, but suddenly he didn't care. Sam was hitting him _there_ on every outstroke and it was **bliss.**

Sam pushed himself in, breath becoming erratic, finally approaching the jagged edge of his orgasm. Dean was so ready to come that he bunched his muscles, fighting back the moans wanting to escape his gravel-fed throat. Sam noticed that Dean was impossibly tighter, perching his head on his arms and pumping faster, taking Dean's sweet lips with his own. Sam slammed into Dean's prostate over and over, a shuttered groan between Dean's lips every time Sam pushed in. 

Sam was close, his uneven breath coming in pants as he wrapped his arms around Dean's shoulders, digging his fingers in and making the older Winchester gleam. Sam began thrusting erratically, two pumps in before Dean felt the throbbing of Sam's cock and he bellowed, lifting his head in exotic release, spilling his contents into Dean's most guarded hole. Dean's chest heaved at the feeling, loved being so full of Sam. 

Sam didn't still, but instead kept pumping and pushing his come farther into Dean, who then began bucking back up, thrusting his erection into Sam's abdomen, making him keen and whine. Dean rubbed the soft nerve on the underside of Sam's bellybutton, triggering enough stimulation to bring himself off in a shocking orgasm, tightening his own muscles to ring the last bit of come from Sam. 

Sam collapsed, the muscles in his arms finally tweaking and giving way, breathing deeply into Dean's neck, sending goose bumps down his spine. They huffed the shared air between them, Sam pushing himself back up on weak, shaking arms to look deeply into his brother's eyes. 

"Okay?" Sam hadn't needed to say more. Dean knew what he was asking, asking if he'd taken it too far or if he'd hurt him. Dean poured every once of unspoken love and care into his gaze before leaning up to steal a kiss from Sam's parted, exhaling lips. 

"Okay." Dean ran his fingers delicately down Sam's spine, running it through a small patch of sweat that had gathered in the dip below his shoulders. A soothing notion Dean had done since childhood. The ultimate sign of reassurance. Of hope and adoration. "You were perfect, baby. Amazing, even. I can't believe-"

The reply that Dean heard were soft snores ringing in his ears and he turned, Sam's large frame falling beside him gracefully on the mattress. Dean bent down to find the comforter at the bottom of the bed and covered them, making himself comfortable in Sam's arms. He laid his head on Sam's chest, falling into a deep blissful sleep while listening to Sam's heartbeat thunder and slow. Dean closed his eyes and slept. They could always talk about it tomorrow. 

End.


End file.
